For Sale


A stroll down the road

Glances left and right.

On show they are,

One green paper

Traded

For a second of ecstasy

And an afternoon of regret.

Red curtains rushed close,

Hard at work.

Pockets thicker right after,

And a moribund face

That will know no sleep.

The emptiest cups are always the hungriest.

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An Apple for the Mule

My wrists are cut.

A small group of ten tubes

Come through,

A peevish grin on a few dozen chins

Surround me.

 

I see nothing but the night sky,

A clap of thunder and a spark of

Electricity.

The moon takes refuge

Behind ragged rain clouds,

The showers mix with the red ground.

 

Clutch my heart

And clog it with clots

An apple is down my throat,

I am a mule

Driven by so many.

 

But I am me,

And neither the sun

Nor the one eighty one

Moons

Can do

Any more than

Can you.

The Tight Rope

My brain went swimming

In the rapid river

And came to the stagnant pool.

 

Change comes and goes,

In bulking flows.

A million degrees at a time.

Surprise surprise

And your life

It isn’t.

 

I see gunpowder flash

A scream of terror

And I smell scorched flesh,

If you listen closely

You can’t barely hear,

A whisper of things to come

 

We are all just glass.

I swear.

Just glass and icicle dust.

A nudge away from oblivion,

And a single call

Can change it all,

Pathetically human of you.

And just when a smile starts

It comes and away with the wall.

And so I tell you, friend

Don’t close your eyes.

 

A witless child remolded.

Add concrete to his feet

Until he’s tall enough to pass for a man,

Then throw him in the middle.

Make him lose

Punch holes through his infant heart

Break off his ribs and stab him with them.

Let him learn as only a fool can

Let him hurt let him suffer

Let him scrape his knees and break his arms.

He will cry and shout and beg and scream

He will fight to float.

And in the end when he comes out,

We will look for the light.